The Spy who Hexed me
by Hasty
Summary: Agent 99 makes her move, as Terry searches Gotham for missing people. Meanwhile, Infiltration Unit Zeta uncovers what he believes to be a plot against the governor of Virginia.
1. Chapter 1

**Here be rampant copyright infringement. I own only Rithy, Cully, and Trade of Ghosts in this chapter. All other people, gadgets and supernatural entities belong to D.C., Vertigo, and Warner Brothers. Soundtrack: This world faireth as a fantasye.**

Even in his younger and more sociable days, Bruce Wayne had despised having house guests. They messed up his routine, helped themselves to his kitchen (or at least, the few that Alfred liked did) and were generally a pain to look after. The worst guests were the ones that invited themselves. He glumly ate his dinner and glanced at the latest uninvited house pest.

Maxine Gibson had taken advantage of his absence due to a business trip last month to move in. By the time he'd come back, she was firmly ensconced. Her strategy of bribing Ace had paid off. He'd tried threats, he'd tried calling her parents, and at this point, he was seriously considering changing the locks. Or shipping her to Bialya.

"Credit for your thoughts?" Max asked.

"I was wondering why you aren't at your own house."

"Key word there is house. Not 'home.' Besides, you have lots of space; you didn't even notice I'd moved in for a week."

"A mistake I won't make again. I like my space and I like my privacy."

"And you still have plenty of both," Max said. "Um, Wayne..what's happening to the table?"

The tabletop glowed. Letters formed above the gleaming wood.

_I am coming to Gotham. We must talk- Blood. 3-20_

Wayne groaned. "Him coming here is the last thing I or Terry need."

"Friend of yours?" Max choked out.

"Not exactly. We've worked together, on occasion."

"Couldn't he have just sent an email?"

"He's never gotten the hang of electronics," Wayne said.

00

Jason Blood hadn't been to Gotham in years. He hadn't been in the States for a decade or two. Gotham certainly had changed, he thought, eying the ring of Jokerz around him. Time was, even the lowest of the low wouldn't take that name in vain.

"Listen, slaghead, just give us all your cash," the leader snarled.

"No."

"..What?"

"Did you know, once, Dick Turpin tried to rob me? I was not afraid of him, and I'm even less scared of you pathetic little shadows. You are as nothing to the man you'd attempt to honor. You merely cause chaos as an act of misguided youthful rebellion. He caused chaos for chaos's sake."

The nearest gang member tried to edge away, warned by some instinct that the attempted robbery had gone very, very wrong. The leader charged, but Blood raised a hand and stopped him in his tracks with a spell.

"Scum," he said congenially. "If you weren't going to die before the year was out, I'd take what little remained of your wits. Now, BEGONE, before I get mad."

The gang scurried for their motorcycles, driven by the compulsion in his words. A trivial spell, really. He should've simply turned them all into frogs or driven them insane, but he needed all his power for the coming fight.

"Guess you didn't need my help after all," a gravelly voice commented. Batman turned visible and landed.

"Another shadow?" Blood inquired. "No, I see. Taking up a legacy; yours by honor and blood."

"Are you always this aggravating or did I catch you at a bad time?" Terry asked, studying Blood.

At a guess, he'd say Blood was in his forties, or maybe a really well-preserved fifty. His hair was still red, though streaked with white, his face only had a few lines, and he stood straight and tall. Despite his confrontation with the Jokerz, he looked serene and unruffled. Keen green eyes pierced the night. He certainly didn't look old enough to have worked with Bruce as an equal.

"Boss, are you sure I found the right guy?"

"Yes, that is Jason Blood."

"He doesn't look any older than fifty."

"And he's looked like that for a very long time."

Terry gulped.

"Ah..need a lift?" he asked, covering up his nervousness.

"The night is fine. I will walk."

"There's more of them out there, you know."

Blood smiled. It was a very nasty smile, and Terry took a step back.

"Then I shall teach them the errors of their ways."

00

Blood arrived at the mansion before Terry did. Wayne suspected he'd cheated and called on Etrigan. As he knew from experience, taking the high route tended to cut way down on commuting time. And unlike Terry, Blood didn't care about ordinary crime.

"It's been a long time, Blood," he said. _Not nearly long enough. _

"A fine welcome. Your manners haven't improved much. This is..Maxine Gibson. Interesting. A little butterfly who flaps her wings and causes hurricanes of change. You are much like Abby, but luckily for you, not magically talented."

"You sound like a fortune cookie," Max snapped. "Can't you talk in a straight line?"

"I would, but at risk of offending our host. Can someone fetch me some hot water? It was a long flight, and I wish to have some tea. I brought my own leaves."

"Fine. I guess I have something better to do than watch you and Wayne and Ace all bristle at one another."

She left. Blood laughed.

"Your daughter will be just as lively as her, Wayne. I don't know whether I envy you or pity you."

"I don't have a daughter," Wayne replied.

"Not yet. She's not of your blood, but every bit as fierce. She will be seventeen in a month; you will live until her twentieth year."

"Has anyone ever told you that the precognition is bloody unnerving?"

"Many times."

00

Blood slowly sipped his tea, watching the four around him.

"So, why did you come here?" Terry asked.

"I will need your help. There is an incident that will happen, fueled by magic and technology. I narrowed the list of culprits to the children of five families. The Burgesses, the Crowleys, the Walkers, the Chatterjis and the Constantines. I cannot even approach the children to evaluate them; London shields them well."

"Can't you just go through this London person?" Terry asked.

"What are they teaching you children? I was talking about the _city. _This incident will began and end in London; I know the _where,_ and the means, but the how and why still elude me."

"Wait, the city 'loves' them?" Max asked. "You're acting like it's a person."

"London was ancient when I was young- of course it has an awareness of itself. And I've been told that you have a friend who's a golem. A killer, made by men. I cannot sense it, but I can sense the ripples it's left in its wake. How can you say it is sentient and London is not?"

"Hold up," Max said. "Zee's not a killer. He's a _person._ And as far as I can tell, he's got a better personality than you do."

"Seconded," Terry said. "So if everything's going to go down in London, why are you in Gotham?"

"London is their power source. I risked being caught up in their work there. This incident will be global, and Gotham has no practitioners of magic."

"Glad to hear it," Wayne said. "So where have you been the last few decades?"

Blood shrugged. "Nearly everywhere. My last stop before London was Geneva; a group of vampire hunters had to be taken into hand. And before that there was the trouble with ifrits in Kuwait. Incidentally, I ran into the Black Orchid in the Congo; she says hello."

"She's still around?" Wayne asked.

"Mm. Or one of her many sisters. I'm not sure which and it seemed rude to ask."

00

"Nice friends you have," Terry told Wayne through the comm. It looked like he could go off duty soon;

Gotham's finest could handle the rest.

"He's not my friend. I prefer not to deal with magicians if I can help it, and Blood's even stranger than they normally come. To start with, he's older than I am."

"How much older?" Terry asked.

"Not sure. He's learned to mask himself well, and drops off the grid for decades at a time. Ra's Al'Ghul had a few records of him; the earliest one I found seemed to indicate that Ra's' ran into him in 1750. The English branch of the League thinks he's older than that."

00

Two weeks later:

Across the world, men, women and children began suddenly taking off, leaving jobs, families, lovers behind. They didn't act right away; there were loose ends to tie up, plans to make, gadgets to construct. Hawk-Eye Corp.'s computers noted the phenomenon first, two hours after the first report, and went into debug mode. They failed. Virgil Hawkins, at his home, was alerted and began scrolling through the code himself, using his own methods. Five hours later, he was forced to come to the same conclusion as his machines; there was nothing wrong with the code, but an outside force was interfering in his program. Two brown-outs later, he finally gave up on finding the source and went to sulk by the local power plant.

New York City:

Culver Davies banged on the bedroom door. Rithy invariably slept late whenever she was given the chance. It was a source of great amusement to the Aruns and the Davies clan that the two childhood friends were such opposites. Ri was a night owl, Cully an early bird. Culver was tall and light-complexioned, she was short and dark. She would fight, he was a pacifist. And yet, they were best friends.

"Come on, Ri. First day of spring break..don't tell me you stayed up all night playing that game.."

_Trade of Ghosts _had come out a week ago. It was an espionage game, allowing the players to either make up their own character and their own missions, or to play as several historical and fictional characters. Cully wasn't a gamer himself, but Ri was. He checked the computer.

"Mission parameters: evade White House security..assassinate Richard Nixon and prevent the bombing of Cambodia?" he read off the screen. He minimized the game and spotted a reservation for a train that went to Washington. He remembered a news story about that kook in Gotham, the one that hypnotized kids. Had Spellbinder picked up sticks and decided to operate in New York? Or was he going global and using the net to do his dirty work?

He sighed. He'd leave a problem like Spellbinder-if it was him- to the suits. Rithy had bailed him out so many times, now was his chance to return the favor.

00

Gotham:

Bang-bang, bang..

"Geez, I'm coming, I'm coming," Terry muttered, racing to the door. His mother had taken Matt to the mall, letting Terry sleep. He opened the door.

"Max?"

"Hey, I need to make a call. You got your shoes serviced recently, right?"

Terry blinked. "My what.."

She snagged his loafer, pressed the sole and held it to her ear. She shook it, annoyed.

"Ugh, another defective phone. They really went overboard with the budget cuts. How do they expect us to stop K.H.A.O.S like this?"

"Max, what are you talking about?

"So you're not from Control? Maybe I will take that SPECTRE agent up on her offer. Well, see you around."

Terry blinked after her. So much for sleeping in. Spellbinder had to be behind this somehow.

00

Max made one stop before meeting up with Pussy Galore and the rest.

She drove back to Wayne's and let herself into the Bat Cave. She eyeballed the Batgirl suit, and shook her head. She was too tall for it. She kept forgetting that Gordon was _tiny._ She went to a glass case and smiled wickedly.

Night vision goggles, a utility belt, and pure black, no emblem to be seen. It was a secret agent's dream. She disabled the alarms and chucked the suit into her backpack. She'd return it when the mission was done. A dim part of her suggested that stealing _Selina Kyle's _old suit would bring horrible consequences, but she batted it down. Nothing mattered but the mission.

00

Blood set aside the antique mirror. It had begun. This promised to be the most entertainment he'd had in years. A powerful, untrained magician could cause oodles of chaos, and this child had done just that. It was likely they had been stupid enough to get caught in their own spell. Another knot for the magicians of the League to straighten out. A spell like this would cast ripples for years to come, and he was curious about the results. He'd offer his assistance to Batman, only because he wanted to meet this person. If they had power enough to cast a spell that went viral in a matter of hours, perhaps they could untangle him from Etrigan. Or destroy him, if he broke loose from Blood's body.

_**Blood/Etrigan appear in Golden Dawn, Swamp Thing and the Sandman. All you really need to know about him is that he's an immortal, made a deal with a demon, and at some point the demon got trapped inside him. Other members of the League and the 'English Branch' will show up in future chapters. Please review. **_


	2. Late at night, haunt my mind

**Back again. I own only Cully and Ri. The others are all owned by people much richer than I am. U.N.C.L.E., C.O.N.T.R.O.L. and S.P.E.C.T.R.E. are also not owned by me. Soundtrack: United We Stand, Divided We fall, by Two Steps from Hell.**

"No, I haven't seen Max," Terry growled into his cell phone. "Look, Boss, I'm taking Dana out to dinner, so don't call me unless someone tries to blow up Gotham."

"Maxine took Selina's suit, Terry."

"She'll give it back once she has her fun."

"If she doesn't get killed first."

"She can take care of herself."

00

"Hey, Dana, has anyone from Hamilton been acting weird in the last day or so?" Terry asked.

"What brought that on?" she asked.

"Max showed up at my place this morning and tried to call someone on my shoes."

She snickered. "Too bad you didn't tape it. Let's see, Blade called looking for a 'James Bond' and Dale-that fresh from the basketball team- was walking around in an old-fashioned dress. Although a sword's a bit unusual as an accessory. Come to think of it, they all were playing the same game- Trade of Ghosts."

"Just wanted to know. I might not be available for a day or two. Tax season, Wayne has a lot of meetings."

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. Dana sipped her cola, regarding him with icy black eyes.

"Did you send in those college applications?"

"Er..completely slipped my mind."

"Terry..you promised. I'm sure you can get into Georgetown. Your grades slipped a little, but that was freshman year and your dad had died."

"I'll try, but there's a catch. Wayne'll still need me after I graduate."

"He can train a replacement, can't he?"

"I never thought of that."

00

Max glared at the assembly.

"We must attack K.H.A.O.S soon. I have intelligence that Klaw will be there, but I need help. I can't do it alone. C.O.N.T.R.O.L is not responding, so I have a bit of freedom. I will help you with your missions, if you help me with mine. Who's in?"

"U.N.C.L.E isn't responding either," a young caramel-colored boy said. He didn't go to Hamilton, Max realized, and then she wondered what 'Hamilton' was. "I don't have any objection to this."

"Can't be worse than the spa," a cheerful, skinny man said. "Sorry, Agent Flint. And you are.."

"Agent Karob," said the boy. "She said she was Agent 99."

"I need a ship to France," muttered the Chevalier D'Eon.

Pussy Galore, once known as Bobbi Blade, sniffed. "Well, okay. It'll kill a little time, but I really have to find Bond.."

In the end they all voted to help her...as long as they hit up the museum first. D'Eon wanted a crossbow, Revere needed a sword, and Galore, Karob and Flint all needed guns. After the raid they'd hide and lay low.

00

"Actually, Dana's right,'' Wayne said through the com. "Your mother was absolutely adamant that you go to college, and I'm sure I could convince Static to chip in."

"Don't tell me, you have a candidate all picked out."

"Yes. She'll need to be trained, but she's got a lot of potential."

"Anyone I know?"

"Rosalie Rowan. If she can't do it, Red Hood or Canary might want a stab at keeping Gotham safe. Static's got a few problem children that could use some training too."

"They couldn't be any worse than Rowan," Terry said sardonically.

"Heh. I didn't think you stood a chance either when you started out," Wayne said drily.

"We could ask Zee if he wants to take over."

"Very funny. Not on my watch."

Terry hadn't been joking. He landed on a roof and scanned the horizon. Nothing was blowing up-yet. Huh, even the Jokerz had run for cover. He hoped Blood hadn't had any more run-ins with them. He wasn't sure what the so-called sorcerer could do, and didn't plan to find out. The man creeped him out.

"So.. guess we have a spy problem. Any ideas?"

"They'd either start with the Tongs or go after government officials. I'll look up the parameters of the missions Hawkins programmed in."

"Just out of curiousity, how did she get past Ace?" Terry asked.

"Rank bribery, that's how."

"Dog treats. I wish I'd done that when I stole this thing."

"Well, she's a genius and you're not."

"Ouch, " Terry said, wincing.

"You asked."

"Static say anything about the code?" Terry asked, changing the subject.

"He ran it by Gear, both Green Arrows, and Cyborg. They all agreed that it's not the game or an outside hack."

"Yeah? Hey, what's Spellbinder doing these days?"

"He's under house arrest, heavily monitored."

"Can you get me his address?"

00

Ira Billings pushed away from the table. He wished he had net access, but Gordon wasn't giving him any outlets; even at the library, he was monitored. There were no computers in the house either. Proving just how smart she was, no doubt.

Insulting her hadn't been his brightest idea, he mused, as he headed to the living room for a book. And came up short when he saw Batman. Things you expect to find in your living room..not a kid with a red-and-black Bat blazed on his chest.

"Hello, Batman. Nice evening."

"It'd be nicer if you weren't up to your old tricks," Terry said, glaring.

"Excuse me?"

"You know what I'm talking about. What did you do to Trade of Ghosts?"

"Nothing, I swear. Look around, you see any computers, anything remotely technical?"

"We both know sight can't be trusted when dealing with you."

Terry narrowed his eyes, letting Wayne look through them. The house was pretty bare-bones; GCPD had stripped it, searched it and taken everything with a screen away.

"He is telling the truth," Wayne said.

"Gordon's had me on lockdown for _months, _Batman. She won't even let me have a holovision set."

"Maybe you should've kept your mouth shut. For such a bright guy, you don't have very much common sense. If I find out you are behind this, I'll be back with reinforcements."

00

It might've seemed odd that Infiltration Unit Zeta (known as Zee to his friends) hadn't noticed anything wrong. However, he had as much interest in most V.R or net games as a bear had in bicycling. His traveling companion Rosalie Rowan only liked arcade games. And while he was an enthusiastic observer of humans, he really had no idea what 'normal human behavior' was.

At this time, he only intended to get some pills for her; she'd had bad cramps all day. He'd found a vending machine that dispensed the right pills but it was on the fritz. He looked around, found no one in the corrider and snaked a cable into the vending machine's crude controller. There was a reassuring ka-chunk, and he retrieved the pills.

Good, one less thing for Ro to be annoyed with him about. Two weeks ago, they'd finally found Ro's brother. Zee had taken the opportunity to sneak off, leaving her behind. She caught up, and she was still angry about it. It was lucky for him that Casey had repented at the last moment and helped him and Ro escape.

There was a hot water dispenser and some tea near the lounge, he thought, and set off to find it. Ro liked peppermint or rosehip tea when she wasn't feeling well. He might as well kill as much time as he could; they'd lost the NSA agents two states back and Selig had gone underground again.

There were people in the lounge, which was unusual at ten in a major metropolis. He flattened himself against the wall and listened.

"Are you sure this place is safe?" a man asked.

"Aye. Why would the owner call it 'The Crown Lodge' if he be not a loyalist?" another man replied.

A third man muttered, "But that cursed Pat Henry is some kind of devil. More and more people are listening to him."

"That's why we are here, is it not?" the first man replied. "To put an end to Pat Henry and all his ilk."

"Yes..if we can lay our hands on the right weapons."

"There's a supply of flintlocks not too far from here," the second man said.

"Aye. We get the weapons, and we attack tomorrow at noon. These things must be done in the daylight."

Zee frowned. Unless he was very much mistaken, while the current governor was indeed a Pat Henry, she was a woman. He slinked off, shaping the hologram around him into a different form- a red-haired, brown-eyed short man. He knocked at the first door he came to.

"Yeah?" said the man who answered the door. He was a husky balding man, and held a tie in one hand- probably a businessman sufferering from jet lag, tired from a long day of meetings. Zee flashed his 'badge,' looking grim.

"Special Agent West, National Security Agency. Do you have a personal computer with you?"

"Uh..yes."

"I need to borrow it. Please don't mention this to anyone. My mission is highly classified."

"Here you go. Be careful out there, sir."

Zee smiled again. "Thank you very much."

He'd just remembered that the current lieutenant governor was named R. Edward Lee- the R was short for Robert.

If they had people believing they were British loyalists running around, what were the odds that a 'Union spy' wouldn't turn up? He ducked around a corner and reset his hologram. At last, a little excitement.

00

Terry padded across the museum floor.

"Really efficient clean-out, boss. Didn't even trip the alarms. Looks like they just wanted the swords, crossbows, throwing knives and some of the oldest guns. I doubt those things would even fire. And what damage can a crossbow do?"

"Ask me that again when you get a bolt through your shoulder," Wayne grumbled.

"..I'm not even going to ask. Ouch."

"I don't think there's anything you can do tonight. They'll wait till the heat's off and then move. You might as well get some sleep."

"Got it. I'll keep my phone on."

00

Wayne was just about to shut down when he noticed an incoming call. He rerouted it to the cave, putting it on sound only. Terry needed his sleep, as there was no telling what tomorrow would bring.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Zeta.. you must be Batman's handler. Can you give me data on the villian designated Spellbinder? I have reason to believe he's operating in my area."

"Where are you now?"

"Richmond, Virginia."

Wayne rubbed his temple. Why was it always Virginia with those two?

"It's not him. Spellbinder, also known as Ira Billings, is under house arrest. Has been for months. He doesn't have so much as a cell phone in his house."

"Odd."

"You don't know the half of it. Do you have access to a computer?"

"Until about 7 AM. I borrowed one."

"Can you access England's National Health Service records?"

"Do fish fart in rivers?"

Wayne chuckled. "Point taken, of _course _you can. I need you to dig up all the info you can on a man named John Constantine. 'John' with an H. I think he might be able to help."

"Affirmative. I've already found the NSA's portal into the NHS. Not well-secured..shouldn't be a problem. Night, Bruce."

The line went dead. Wayne sighed. Zeta was rapidly becoming too cute for his own good. He'd been a little disturbed when Zee had contacted him last year. Nothing like getting a conversational email detailing his career as Batman to cause the old ticker to skip a beat.

He shut down the computer and turned out the lights. He hadn't thought of Constantine in years; not surprising since they'd only met a handful of times. Despite Wayne's dislike of magic users and Constantine's ascerbic personality, they respected each other and had gotten along. Not that they saw much of each other.

Like Wayne, he usually only left his home city when things were, as he put it 'seriously screwed.' Constantine's baliwick was the occult and the uncanny; he dispatched ghosts, vampires and things-that-went-bump with sardonic quips and a range of cobbled together spells and weapons.

Wayne's fingers were already itching to get at the files and confirm half-remembered facts. One thing he and Zee had in common was that neither believed there was such a thing as 'too much information.'

Tomorrow. He'd let Zeta trawl the 'net tonight and see what the synthoid had dug up in the morning.

00

Cully had searched till curfew, and now curled up in the hotel room. Uncle Nhean had been generous, preferring to foot the bill for a hotel room than involve the officials. Cully was booked on a tour of the White House tomorrow. He hoped Ri was sleeping well, where-ever she'd wound up.

Getting the tickets was an ordeal and a half, made worse by the fact that Cully was shy and could barely squeak out a word when he was on his own. The tour was going to be grueling, but he had to do it. Ri might be there, and he couldn't pass up the chance.

He worked his bag open and grabbed a little white square. He flicked the switch. Two six-year-olds grinned at him in the photo, eyes bright and clear. They'd been so innocent back then. That was back when Ri's siblings spilled out the door demanding to know how her day had gone, back when he still had a big sister. Even then, she'd wanted to be a hero.

"'Live three times as hard,' huh?" he murmured. "You better keep that promise, Ri."

**Chapter 2, complete. Until our next update, please enjoy my other stories, and feel free to tell me what you think. It's not that I don't like faves, but I adore feedback. Thanks to all the kind people who favorited and are following this story. I promise there'll be more plot in the next installment.**


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